Surviving the Titanic
by queenofthescots
Summary: Rose and Jack both survive the Titanic. They struggle to survive in NYC, living off the money in Cal's coat pocket and the small wages they earn from full time jobs. Rated T for some sexual references
1. Chapter 1

Rose could hear the ice-cold water sloshing gently against the boat as the gentle breeze tossed her fiery red curls around her face. She shivered, half awake and snuggled closer to her blanket. Eventually she could feel someone lift her onto a stretcher and carefully carry her onto another boat. Turning slightly to the side she fell asleep.

"Wake up sweets." Rose's eyelids fluttered and she was blinded by the sunlight coming into the large infirmary. A chubby nurse with short frizzy coffee colored hair stood over her straightening up the small white table next to her cot.

"Thank goodness, I thought you'd never wake up!" chuckled the woman. "I'm Betty McArthur" Betty wiped her sweaty brow before presenting her hand to Rose, assuming she would shake it. Rose just answered:

"Rose, nice to meet you" Rose said. "Where's Jack?"

"I figured you'd ask that" Betty chuckled again "You've been shouting his name in your sleep for a while." Rose blushed.

"Do you know where he is? She asked again impatiently.

"Well, there is a survivor's list over on that wall over there, lemme just get you a wheel chair and we you can go and check it out. Eh?" Rose nodded as she struggled out of bed and into the black leather chair. Wheeling herself over she shuffled through the pages and into the D section.

"Darwin, Darwoll, Dawson! Jack Dawson!" Rose smiled and wiped the happy tears of relief away from her cheeks as she shuffled back to her cot. Betty grinned back at her and walked off to tend to the woman to Rose's left. Rose shouted out to her.

"Betty, where would Jack Dawson be?" Betty pointed over to a corner far over from where Rose was.

"Right over there honey, just wheel yourself over, but don't stay too long, I need to fix you up in a bit." Rose grinned and wheeled off. She came across a corner of men, varying in ages, some as young as 14, some around 60. Most looked like first class men. Rose spotted a blond head in the back and craned her neck to see if it was Jack. Feeling a surge of excitement pass through her body she went to see him.

"Jack!" she yelled as she steered to the side of his green cot. "It's me, Rose!" Jack didn't move. He was breathing deeply, Rose observed but he was unconscious. Rose caressed his cheek.

"It'll be okay, I'm here Jack. I'll never leave you."

After returning to her bed to visit with Betty for some medication and hot tea Rose asked if it would be all right to lie next to Jack. Although Betty was reluctant she agreed that Rose could for a short while.

"He needs all the support he can get." Agreed Betty, and she handed Rose an extra blanket for Jack. Rose snuggled up to Jack's cold and lifeless body, feeling his belly move up and down with each strained breath he took. Rose could feel his discomfort and cried. She cried because she missed Jack, she cried because of what had happened earlier on the boat, but most of all she cried because of what she had to do: give up her old life and everything and everyone in it and start anew with Jack.

She knew it was what she had wanted all along, but the pangs of heart throb that were coming from her now were unbearable. She loved Jack with all of her soul, and she knew that she always would, but part of her wanted to hang onto those last few shreds of that fancy, and exquisite life of dancing, cotillions, and polo matches. It was what she knew, what she had been trained to do for seventeen years.

She had faith in Jack. Despite the factors that would make them struggle to survive like having close to no money, no home, and no job, she knew that they would do fine.

Rose took a strained breath. The survivor's list! Mother and Cal will know that I'm here! She rushed to Betty without her chair, limping. She would have to change her name to escape.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dammit!" cried Rose as she rushed over to Betty again, the wheels of her chair creaking and shuffling over the dirt-ridden floor.

"Oh dear God Betty!" she panted. "What's the matter dearie?" Betty spoke firmly. "Calm down sweets, it'll be okay." She chortled.

"No, Betty, I need you to do me a favor alright?" she queried, not waiting for Betty's answer "I need you to change my name to Rose Dawson, got it? Dawson. D-A-W-S-O-N. This is excruciatingly important to me Betty." Rose looked pained with fear of refusal.

"Of course love, I won't even ask, I know it's that important to ye." With a sigh of relief, Rose sank back into bed, praying that tomorrow Jack would be awake, and they would spend the day gazing at the shoreline and planning their trip to go to the roller coaster and ride on a horse with legs on either side for the first time. Rose was pleased at how she was beginning to loosen up. Jack had taught her to trust. Now the simplest things that would have driven her crazy just seemed so silly.

Her mother used to complain to her daily about the cheap spices in the tea and how they were trying to cheat her out of her money by not giving her a full teaspoon of sugar. Why did it matter? Who really cared? All Rose cared about was Jack. She knew that, and she wanted that. She embraced her newfound happy go lucky attitude and dozed off, warm in her bed with the promise of tomorrow looming in the air.

Jack rubbed his eyes sleepily and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He rubbed the bristly beard beginning to sprout from his chin from days of not shaving. Oh god, where is Rose? He sank back into the covers with his hands over his eyes, thinking of how today he was feeling better. Today was a good day, and today he would find Rose. He loved just saying her name,

Rose made him feel like he was someone. Before he had met her, he was barely roughing it out, living on the streets and never knowing what would happen next, and he loved that. But now with her it was different, he knew that wasn't going to happen anymore and he welcomed it. It was a new lifestyle, and a new beginning and he couldn't wait.

Just as he was about to try and get up from bed, he spotted a fiery red curl blowing in the breeze coming in from the window. It was the exact same color as Rose's hair he thought. He groaned and longed to hold her close to him. The curl began to bob up and down and it appeared as if the woman was walking. Emerging just outside the curtain of his bed she appeared.

It was Rose.


End file.
